These distractions are only a distant buzz in the background while my focus remains with Noah. Her body arches as she leans down to retrieve her robe from the floor and slides it over her body, and I leave my stuff where it is and stride toward her. I stand before her, speechless but wanting to say a million things all at once.
You’re beautiful.
I want you.
Let me know every part of you, please.
“I like you, Brazen, and I’m not afraid to say it first. This is me, and I want to share myself with you. Not professionally and not as your friend. I want to know you in a way no one else has before.”
I had so much I wanted to say, but now, there is only one thing I need to do.
I take Noah by the wrist and pull her to me. Her pulse drums under the touch of my fingers. My other hand goes to her cheek, and my attention zeroes in on her lips, soft and glossy pink. She sinks into me, and our hips touch. Slowly, or maybe it’s quickly—at this point, I don’t know—I lean down to taste her lips. Sweetly, my mouth covers hers, our connection lingering. It takes everything in me not to tear her robe back off and lift her into my arms. If we weren’t in public, I would do exactly that. Noah deserves more from me.
Her warm lips brush against mine, and I deepen our kiss. She moans and then trembles as the reaction runs through her entire body. Her lips part, and I take my chance. Tentatively, my tongue traces the inside of her lips, but there is nothing hesitant about Noah’s response to me.
This is a first kiss that beats anything.
Super Bowl Sunday falling on a four-day weekend for the best possible matchup, and your house is filled with free booze and greasy catered food while the cheerleaders are in your living room. This type of man’s dream scenario doesn’t even compare to what it’s like to have my hands on Noah.
I can feel her smile against my mouth as we kiss.
I pull back, needing to see her eyes.
“I like you, too, and I’m not afraid to say it back,” I say, making myself clear.
She pulls at her robe, double-checking that the fabric is in place.
“Do you want to go get dinner?” she asks with so much hope in her voice.
“Yeah, I know a good place around the corner.”
It’s my favorite place—Al’s Place.
Florida isn’t known for its pizza, but Al’s is home to the best New York–style slice around and has a comfortable atmosphere.
After Noah gets dressed, we head over and grab a couple of slices and a pair of sodas before taking a seat.
“Did you plan that whole thing for me?” I ask her.
“What? Did I get naked in front of an entire class all for you?” A piece of steaming cheese falls to her chin, and she quickly licks it away before adding some red pepper to her pizza. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Her ribbing words produce a smile.
I chuckle. “Okay, so how long did you know you were going to do that?”
“I booked tonight the first time I checked out the center, but after the other night, yeah, I hoped bringing you along would make my intentions clear. Posing in that class wasn’t just about me anymore.”
“What were your original intentions?”
“I already told you I was all about trying new things. Well, I have a list. I call it my Orbit List. Both attending an art class with a nude model and being the nude model were on my list of things. Every item on my list is about pushing my boundaries, and I’d say those classes were way outside of my comfort zone.”
I take a bite before asking, “Orbit List?” I have no idea what that is.
“It’s a list for me to finish in a year. One orbit around the sun.” Noah takes a pull from her soda and wipes the grease from her hands.
“Makes sense. What else is on your list?”
“A little of this and a helping of that.” Shyness is hidden in her words.
“So, you are willing to pose naked but not tell me what’s on your list?” My words are light and have a hint of laughter in them.
“Exactly. Plus, you’ve probably seen enough of me for one evening.”
I don’t think I’ll ever see enough.
“Fair enough. Answer me this then. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you make the list?” I pick my pizza back up and take another bite.
“I didn’t want to waste any more of my time. I want to see and do as much as I possibly can in this next year. I don’t want anything to ever hold me back again.”
It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that this list really means something to Noah. I don’t know what’s shaped her, but the pieces of herself that she’s sharing right now are important. So, I lean in to give her my undivided attention.
“What held you back in the past?”
“I grew up in an orphanage.” She doesn’t expand. There are no other words telling me what she means.
“Tell me about it.” I reach across the table and take her hand.
She stares at our linked fingers for a brief pause before she speaks, “It’s weird. Everything I can tell you about the way I grew up can also be followed by a contradiction. I was surrounded by other children but was still pretty lonely. I shared a room with five other girls. I never ate alone. There was always someone to play games. Sometimes, we’d have movie nights or giant slumber parties, and all the kids would set up sleeping bags in the entertainment hall. But they were always strict about lights out . . .”
Her hand flinches inside mine, and she looks around the restaurant, obviously uncomfortable with the topic in such a public setting.
“Let’s get out of here. You can tell me the rest while I walk you home.” Keeping hold of her hand, I rise from the table and pull her to me. My arm goes around her shoulders, and I keep her close as we leave the pizza place and walk down the street.
“Go on, Noah. I’m listening,” I urge in a soft whisper.
“Despite being surrounded, it was isolating. I never saw my mom after the age of six. The only people who cared for me were people who were paid to watch after me. We went on a few trips into town over the years, but a couple of visits into town is nothing like really experiencing life outside of the place that I lived. School was even worse. The other kids didn’t understand me. How do you explain not having parents to another little kid whose parents are their whole world? I was different from them and navigating it in hand-me-down clothes and secondhand school supplies. So, yeah, it was isolating.”
“You lived with your parents before six?” The now familiar smell of cake batter wafts from her hair, and I take a deep inhale of the sweet scent.
“Well, my mom. She gave up her parental rights, and I haven’t heard from her since, except for a letter that showed up right before I left Seattle. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read it though.”
“Maybe one day,” I tell her.
“Yeah, maybe,” she halfheartedly agrees.
Outside her house, Noah looks up at me with so much hope, and I’m beginning to understand where that strong-willed belief comes from. I pull her against me and press my lips to hers to say good night. Our second kiss is even better than the first and I’d be willing to wager that every kiss will only get sweeter with time.
“I have to get inside,” she says as we break apart.
“Thank you, Noah.” I can’t impress upon her how grateful and sincere I am.
“What are you thanking me for?”
“For bringing me along tonight, for everything we shared in that classroom, and for every piece of yourself you shared with me after. I want you in my life and not just at my business. I want to know everything you will tell me.”
It’s quick, but it couldn’t be truer.
Sometimes, someone comes into your life, and you just know it’s something special. Noah is my something special. Sunday asked me earlier if I was certain, and right now, outside in the Florida heat, I’m positive of my certainty.
Noah is someone worth risking everything
for.
Noah
My room feels small and my bed too large.
I tossed and turned last night, unable to stop thinking about Brazen. Our kisses, the way his eyes had felt on me when I stood naked on that stage, his genuine reaction when I opened up to him. I’d fretted over the plan for the entire day while Brazen was out of the office, but I had known I had to put myself out there. He would be worth the jump.
My imagination hadn’t given what actually happened any justice.
When I think about him this morning, as sunlight peeks through my windows . . .
My nails rake up my skin.
I grow wet between my legs as my memory replays last night.
My breathing hitches when my fingers dip below my panty line and find my clit.
I moan into my free hand.
I pretend it’s Brazen’s hand on me.
My fingers rotate against my wetness. My reserve dulls, and my pleasure intensifies. I imagine Brazen lying atop me with intense eyes and working me up. Everything about the way he looks at me tells me how beautiful I am. His eyes display his want, and he voices those needs with his lips. It’s the same way he looked at me as he painted me. I slide a finger inside me and continue to stimulate myself with my thumb. I find a rhythm, and soon, my leg muscles are locking up. I’m biting the skin of my palm to keep from calling out. Internally, I scream Brazen’s name as I come. My knees go weak, and I go lax within my sheets.
Good morning, Noah!
That is definitely a great start to my day.
Brush teeth.
Shower.
Breakfast.
Final touches.
I rush through my morning routine in order to get to the office, to get to Brazen.
Once I arrive, I find I’m alone again with Sunday.
“Morning!” I exclaim after busting into the office.
“Do you have an off button for that chipperness?” Sunday drones.
“Not a morning person?” I ask, taking a seat at my desk.
“No, not particularly. Maybe in my next life.”
I leave Sunday to her coffee and let her wake up while I attend to my paperwork. But, within a few minutes, a middle-aged woman walks through the office door, and I stand to greet her. Sunday beats me to it. She passes by me and envelops the woman in a hug. As they pull apart, I know exactly who this woman is.
Blue swirled with green. Her eyes match Brazen’s.
The woman, who I am sure is Brazen’s mom, looks my way.
“Well, you’re such a beautiful young thing. What’s your name, sweetie?” she asks while coming closer.
Sunday answers before I can speak for myself, “This is our new assistant, Noah. Noah, this is Beth, Brazen’s mom.”
Yeah, I called that one.
I step forward. “It’s great to meet you, Mrs. Hale.”
“Please call me Beth. I hate formality, and I’ve never been a Mrs.”
I smile at the woman who holds such a motherly presence.
“Okay, Beth.”
She rushes forward and throws her arms around me. “How do you like your new job? Are my kids treating you well?” she asks as she releases me from a hug.
Sunday comes to stand beside us, wearing a smirk that holds secrets.
“Everything has been great so far, and I couldn’t have asked for better bosses.”
“Sit down, Beth. I’ll get you some coffee. Brazen should be in soon.” Sunday offers Beth her chair and disappears into the kitchen.
I take my seat back at my own desk. Before Sunday can return, Brazen walks in.
“Mom! What are you doing here?” There is nothing but affection in Brazen’s question as he moves to greet his mom. He leans down and kisses her cheek.
“Can’t I come to visit my kids? You both have been so busy lately. Even Sunday has been worse than you, and she usually remembers to text me.”
“Sorry, Mom,” both Sunday and Brazen say in unison as Sunday hands Beth a mug.
I’m biting my lip as Brazen turns from his mother and approaches me. When he’s close, he reaches out and brushes his finger against my bottom lip, halting me from worrying it between my teeth. He then ducks down and seals his mouth against mine for a tender, quick kiss … right in front of his mother.
A blush heats my face, and I lightly push off his advance. He just smirks at me, and Sunday shakes her head behind Beth’s back. I look for the reaction from the woman both my bosses call Mom, but she gives nothing away.
“Mom, this is Noah,” Brazen says while taking my hand.
“Noah and I are old friends. We’ve met, but it seems I didn’t realize who she was to you. Would you like to fill me in, my sweet boy?”
Brazen sits on the edge of my desk while he talks to his mom and continues to hold my hand. “Noah is someone I’m getting to know.” He keeps his answer vague.
Part of me is relieved because it’s way too soon to be meeting his mom, but on the other hand, it’s really way too soon for him to be kissing me in front of her.
“I can see that. Are you two getting to know each other seriously?” Beth pushes for more detail.
I attempt to take my hand from Brazen’s, but he tightens his hold.
Sunday moves through the room and takes a seat at Brazen’s desk. “Do you remember the time Brazen stole the neighbor’s dog and tried to hide Bugsy in his closet, but the dog wouldn’t stop barking?” She saves us, but Brazen doesn’t seem grateful as he groans.
Beth laughs and looks over at her son in a way that tells me her child is her whole world.
“I was six, and Mom wouldn’t get me a dog,” he explains.
The same age I was when my mom gave me away, and I thought it was because I had gone outside to chase a cat.
“How about the time his lawn business almost turned into a pyramid scheme?” Beth throws out, which makes Sunday crack up laughing.
I find myself smiling from ear to ear. He drops his face into his free hand. This is a story I want to hear.
“What’s your excuse for that one, Brazen?” I ask.
“That one, I don’t really have an excuse for. Let’s call it an adolescent indiscretion.”
“Teenage indiscretion? Mrs. Grim wanted to call the cops on you, and you were cutting free lawns for a year after that!” Sunday adds.
“Yeah, yeah. I see what’s going on here. Go ahead, ladies. Embarrass me.” His smile says he doesn’t really mind though.
His mom turns to me and smiles. “How much time do you have?”
“For this? I have about as much time as you need. Lay it on me, and don’t hold back.” I get comfortable, ready to soak in as much about Brazen as I can. Who better to hear from to really see who he is than his mom?
“One time, when Brazen and Sunday were about eight, he convinced her that she could fly if she rollerbladed down the slide of the playground in our neighborhood. He helped her get an accelerated start and then watched as she coasted down at an outrageous speed. When she got to the end of the slide, she hit the ground so hard, she broke her arm.”
“Oh no!” I glance toward Sunday, feeling sympathy but also trying to hold in my laughter.
She must have really trusted him to believe that story. That is, until she hit the ground.
“Later, when I asked him where he had gotten this idea from, he said a boy at school had told him, but he didn’t believe it. So, he wanted Sunday to be his gerbil.” Beth beams with love as she talks about them.
Brazen and Sunday both laugh at the old story I’m sure they have heard a hundred times.
“Gerbil?” What does the little rodent have to do with anything? Gerbils can’t fly either.
“He meant, guinea pig,” Beth clarifies.
The banter continues, and Brazen takes it well. He sits back while the two women in his life playfully throw him under the bus. He takes it all in stride, and I enjoy every minute of it. There is a whole lot of love between them.
A bit of sadness pulls at my heartstri
ngs. I don’t have people like this in my life to share old memories with. Not that many of my memories are good ones, but that isn’t the point. I’m happy that Brazen does, so I quickly push the envy away.
“Thank you for humoring your lonely mom. You kids need to come over for dinner soon. I’ve missed you, and, Noah, I’ll be expecting you, too,” Beth says as she gives hugs before she leaves.
“Of course. Thank you. It was so great meeting you,” I say in my most polite voice.
Brazen wraps his arms around me as his mom leaves. Once the door closes behind her, I playfully elbow him in the side.
“Ouch. What was that for?” He feigns an injury.
“Oh, you deserve much worse than that tiny jab, Brazen.” Sunday laughs. “If I were Noah and you’d just kissed me in front of your mother when she had no idea about me, you’d have been rubbing a lump over your head.”
“Wasn’t I punished enough with that whole walk down memory lane?”
“I’m out. I’m going to look at that place on Fourth Street. You two behave.” Sunday rushes out the door before either of us has time to say bye, and for the first time today, I’m alone with Brazen.
“Hi,” he says while moving closer.
“Hi,” I say back.
“I missed you.” He takes me into his arms and kisses the top of my head.
“Is it crazy that I missed you, too, and it’s only been about twelve hours?”
“Well, I don’t find it crazy, but that might be because we’re in the same boat.”
He pulls back, and his lips hover over mine for just a second before he kisses me. This kiss is nothing like the affectionate one he gave me in front of his mother. It’s the kind of kiss that curls your toes and causes the hair on your neck to rise. His tongue breaches my mouth, and his soft lips caress mine. I’m light on my feet when he pulls back.
“I’ll be right back.” Brazen leaves the office but returns in about a minute.
I know what he went to get because I can see it in his hand.
“I’m selfish, so I’m keeping this, but we were so caught up last night that we left this behind at the center. I went back this morning to pick it up.”
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